Theorem
by Electriceel
Summary: The spirit that has protected Yugi has unwittingly caused Yugi's greatest threat, the international community has noticed the rash of insanity that could be connected to the boy and he is now hunted for.
1. Chapter 1

Virginia.

* * *

"Eddie! Hey Ed!" George said as he entered the boss' office waiving a manila envelope around like it was a winning lotto ticket "Got a file here you'll want to see."

Eddie Mulder looked back from his bookshelf's ladder "I doubt that, I really doubt that. Let me guess it's from Series-X isn't it?"

"Yessir," George admitted, "but this..."

"GODDAMNIT!" yelled Ed, "This has to do with the Haven Incident, doesn't it? Or... or let me guess, the Lot Six debacle with that pyro-girl and the _Rolling Stones_ article. The White House and the House Committees have already replaced most of the staff here because of those incidents so why do they keep raking us over the damn coals for things that happened in the seventies and eighties?"

"Actually sir, different subject... or _subjects_ rather, this one came in from PACSIGINT office. They picked up some chatter in Japan that's sort of interesting."

Ed came down from the bookshelf to look at the file, "Interesting? How?"

"Japanese police and intelligence agencies have been buzzing about several rashes of unusual events centered around two teenage males. The more obvious one is a Ryo Bakura; who, in every school he's been in so far, three or four people fall into comas. He transfers a lot so the hospitals have been filling up with coma victims. Someone in the NPA put two and two together and suspect him of causing them... though there is no way to prove it and the kid is very sickly and frail according to his medical records."

Ed made an interested _hrm, _"And the second?"

"This one is a little more subtle, and merciless... if he is really to blame, only the PSIA are really talking about this kid, and even then, it's just a pet theory they have." George smirked, "From what the SIGINT guys are saying, this kid can apparently cause insanity, delusions, and is a cold-hearted son of a bitch to boot."

"Oh really, what are the Gooks saying?"

"The _Japanese_," George tensely spoke, (Ed had fought in Korea and Vietnam as a Marine where he had learned to hate every Asian. Something that George disliked, because he had a Chinese wife.) "Said that this kid allegedly set a escaped prisoner on _fire_ when he took a hostage."

"Jesus."

"Also, allegedly, blew up a classmate with a vial of nitroglycerin, supposedly made a teacher believe her face was made of puzzle pieces, suspected of making another classmate stab his own hand in a delusion, purportedly made a reporter think that he could only see in pixels, allegedly killed most of a street gang using only a yo-yo on top of a roof, supposedly made a bomber think that a bomb was planted inside him, apparently made a doctor think that the ghosts of dead patients were attacking him, and a lot of other things that were supposed to be his doing- all in the file- the latest one had to deal with a Seto Kaiba over a card game. Nothing has been tied to him though."

Eddie took the file, "Sadistic bastard ain't he? What's his name?"

"Yugi Moto," George said, "And he looks like he hasn't even hit puberty yet."

"Napoleon complex," Ed said taking a look at the photos of the two, "explains the hairstyle too, and the bling that would make Mr. T jealous."

"Look at the other one," prodded George.

Ed took out Bakura's photo and compared it with Yugi's, "Both spend more on haircare products in a week than what my granddaughter does in a year, and both are wearing huge medallions that are made to look Egyptian. So? Is that the connection?"

"Ed... They're real, the squints and the archaeologist say so. And yes, that is the connection, the medallions at least, the crazy hairstyles is probably coincidence."

George raised an eyebrow in interest, "has Washington been notified of possible psychic phenomenon in Japan?"

"Yes sir, the White House has given us free reign on this as long as we keep them and the House notified and make every effort to capture these kids... _quietly_."

Ed snorted in derision, "Want them as weapons; still, better than we could have hoped for, given this administration. Send a few of our MiB teams over there to look but not get involved, see what our options are."

"Yes sir, they'll be on a plane to Japan today. We'll designate this file as files 3102Alpha for Ryo and 3102Bravo for Yugi."

* * *

Japan.

* * *

Even the best laid plans can be waylaid by the tiniest things that are impossible to plan for; like a sniper's bullet missing its target when a sudden sneeze strikes the intended victim, or a undercover cop gets recognized by a former classmate.

Case in point: while sitting in math class one day, Yugi Moto was struck with the sudden urge to go to the restroom. The route to the closest restroom took him by the office window that visitors were supposed to check in at to get their little badge that marked them as guests to Domino City's fine education facilities.

After concluding his date with the urinal, he walked right past the office again.

"Hey, Yugi."

Or he would have if the office worker hadn't called him over.

Yugi looked up timidly, "uhhh, yes ma'am?"

The worker chuckled giving Yugi a hard stare, "A couple of official looking guys came by asking where your class was, anything you want to tell me?"

"No ma'am," Yugi said with surprise.

"Okay..." the woman said, unconvinced, "I already sent them up."

Yugi walked back to class confused. Neither he or the worker notice the eye on Yugi's puzzle begin to glow.

The spirit of the Millennium puzzle perked up in interest, "official looking"? The woman had seemed odd- like she had suspected Yugi of some foul deed. What did these men want? Were they from Kaiba as some sort of revenge? But he had crushed Kaiba's mind... unless it was the younger one, but the spirit doubted that, Mokuba didn't seem the type.

He _came forward_, just enough to control the boy's route back to class as being the long way around- the boy did not know of his existence yet, and he meant to keep it that way as long as possible. Whoever these guys were they probably would not expect Yugi to come from the opposite direction from where he went.

He made Yugi look up into the security mirrors that were installed in the corners of the hallways so that he would be alerted to anybody that was unfamiliar before they could see Yugi. He made the boy stop walking when he spotted one of the men through one of those mirrors; he was a large foreigner, black, bald, dressed in a very expensive suit with one of his hands down the front. No doubt fingering a gun. And standing guard right in front of Yugi's classroom. The spirit _came forward_ completely and listened intently, never taking his eyes off the large man in the mirror.

Shouting. He heard girl shouting, then...

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

Screaming.

This did not sound good.

A white man with an eyepatch stepped out of the classroom, holstering a gun in the small of his back.

"What's the body count this time?" the black man asked with an amused tone.

"Five, the teacher and four students, apparently the kid went to the restroom."

"Well, shit."

The spirit decided that he had heard enough, he turned Yugi's body around and started to sneak away.

"Stay here and make sure the survivors don't try to get help. I'll go collect the brat." eyepatch said lighting a cigarette.

"Sure," baldy said, then walked into Yugi's class.

**BLAM**

"The rest of you twats put the cell phones up!"

"Six," eyepatch muttered, then he stalked off to the restroom with gun drawn.

The spirit needed some confusion, a mass of bodies to hide in to escape from these psychos and also to let the rest of the school know that a class was being slaughtered.

A fire alarm would do the trick.

He pulled the lever and within seconds of the alarm going off a flood of students and faculty shuffled their way out of the school. He let himself be caught in the flow of people until he was outside, then he started running.

* * *

The spirit let Yugi regain control of his body. The boy was doing the only thing he knew what to do right now and that was run home to his Grandfather's game shop. Yugi threw open the door and ran inside. A cloying metallic smell permeated the building, the spirit tensed, he knew that smell.

"Grandpa!" Yugi shouted, "Where are you?"

_No, don't go upstairs_, the spirit thought, _you won't like what you see._

Yugi went upstairs, towards the living section of the building, "Grandpa?"

"Grand..." Yugi paused when his foot stuck to the floor. The floor was covered in blood that was starting to coagulate.

"Grandpa!" Yugi yelled running to the kitchen "Are you alright! Grand... Oh my god." The gristly scene of what was his grandfather was too much for his stomach to bear and he kneeled over.

The spirit let him purge the contents of his stomach before mentally urging, _Move, the ones who did this might escape from the school and come back here, or there might be more than those two. Grieve later, when your life is not in jeopardy._

Yugi straightened up, he had to leave quickly, he needed clothes and money. He ran to his room and started to furiously stuff a change of clothes into a backpack, then he stripped out of his school uniform and put on a black T-shirt and jacket with blue jeans. He then went to his grandfather's bedroom and pulled a shoebox out from underneath the bed, inside was a large wad of Yen which he pocketed.

Then he ran again.

* * *

Virginia.

* * *

A knock came at Eddie Mulder's door.

"Come in."

George poked his head in, "Uh Ed, the SIGINT guys are saying the board just lit up about case file 3102."

Ed looked up from paperwork "Yes?"

"3102Bravo's class has been taken hostage..."

"Oh dear."

Eddie took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "Where are our guys?"

"Their planes are just now arriving at Tokyo, It looks like we're not the only ones interested in these kids though."

"Where is the kid now?"

"Unknown sir."

"Lucky break for us."

* * *

electriceel presents:

A Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic:

**THEOREM**

* * *

_Silly pharaoh, did you think this era was like yours in Egypt? Did you think you could escape the consequences of your actions now like you could back then? This era is a lot more subtle in its intrigues than yours pharaoh. In this era someone is always watching your every action remotely._

_And when they get together... they know everything._

* * *

Virginia

* * *

The Department of Scientific Intelligence was arguably the absolute pinnacle of mediocrity that prevailed throughout the entire American bureaucratic system of government. Located on an old tobacco plantation that the founder had given the department on his deathbed in 1941 (stroke), the site had been carefully maintained and was the headquarters of this agency.

The plantation was merely a facade however, everything that was visible (including the ten cars in a gravel parking lot with nerdy bumper stickers like; HONK if you understand punctuated equilibria! and; If this bumper sticker is red you are going WAY too fast.) was a ruse designed to make Joe Schmoe overlook the entire area (one of the most devious ways that they did this was holding field trips for the local public schools in order to try to promote kids to try looking at math and science as fun instead of television and video games... rather unsuccessfully.)

The real truth behind the Department of Scientific Intelligence was underneath the entire grounds of the plantation, but even then- the truth is kind of shaky since it was the headquarters of an agency that didn't even have a _name_.

Those who worked there, and those that had the misfortune of knowing of them, called them the Shop. They were the agency that protected America's interests by studying, engineering, killing, utilizing, and attacking the paranormal; from psychic powers to alien invasion, this agency was the only agency experienced in either disproving to, frighteningly more often than not, proving the existence of extranormal activities. As such, it was well funded for it being one of the smallest government agencies- 839 staff, 350 of which were security personnel culled from the armed forces that had experience in man-to-man combat... MPs, Infantry, SEALs, Rangers... basically, an even mix of self-proclaimed badasses for the running and gunning. 100 of the rest were support personnel, with the remaining 389 being the analysts, scientists, historians, engineers, hackers, and other jobs that the Shop needed to follow through their investigations, even then- most of these were also prior military personnel, in case of a security breach, or served in other government agencies like the CIA or the National Weather Service.

The facility could withstand a nuclear attack, thanks to the massive reinforced concrete shell and the gargantuan springs underneath the underground structure- each the size of a bus. In fact, during the Nixon administration, the site was chosen as a potential bunker for the chain of succession in the event of a Russian attack.

The only time it had even come close to being destroyed was when a captured pyrokenetic girl had escaped and had burnt down most of the plantation's buildings in the seventies, but all the damage had long been undone since then.

And the man in charge of it all was Eddie Mulder; a gray, balding old man that was a far cry away from his glory days as a Marine officer. There was still a essence in him that kept his back ramrod straight and a fire in his eye... pride maybe, or chronic indegestion. Whatever it was, many of the security personnel saluted him as if he were still in uniform, which he always returned. It was a hard habit to break, and if given the option he might have chosen not to break it.

He made his way from his office down to the stairs to The Hub, the command center. Twenty workstations lined the walls, their operators feeding and sucking data from three Cray supercomputers housed underneath the tiled floor, (someone had dubbed them the Triforce after the _Legend of Zelda_, and were even named Courage, Power, and Wisdom by the techs that worked on them). Digital maps, slides, and readouts were projected onto the walls, showing the raw data and analysis coming in from Japan in real time. In the center of the room was a holo-projector based off of Kaiba Corp's tech but made by a firm called North Central Positronics... currently turned off.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Ed asked of the room at large.

"Bringing satellite KH-20's feed to the holo-port," the IMINT officer, Sarah Deepneau, graduate of Cochise College in Arizona and former staff sergeant for the 2nd Cavalry Division, said to her assistant.

"Roger ma'am."

The center of the room flickered as an aerial, real-time, video of Domino City High school materialized.

"Sir, at roughly 1017 local, the fire alarm at Domino High went off due to a pulled switch. All classes except for target B's class evacuated as per school regulations. The Fire Department arrived at 1032 and moved into the building when they came under hostile fire, sustaining casualties. Police and SWAT forces were mobilized at 1040 and surrounded the building." She turned back to her assistant, "rewind to 1045 local."

"Yes ma'am,"

The hologram flickered again, the only difference when it solidified was people's positions and the shadows were a tad bit longer. A team of armed commandos were pressed up against the wall near the side entrance.

"At 1045 one of the mobilized SWAT teams took up a position along the Northwestern entrance in preparation to storm the classroom when..." she trailed off and gestured to the hologram. A window shattered right above the SWAT team as a body was **thrown** through it. "The thrown hostage has been identified as Hiroto Honda, one of target 3102Bravo's classmates, he was taken to the hospital and is listed as critical but stable." a photo of his ID popped up in the corner of the hologram, "after throwing Honda, they threatened to throw another hostage every 15 seconds until the SWAT team left."

Ed whistled, "sure know how to play the game, don't they?"

Sarah chuckled, "Yep, they'd be good if not for their stupidity later on." Continuing on, she said, "since then, two hours ago, a negotiator has been speaking the criminals via megaphone."

"Any demands?"

"Only two sir, Yugi Moto and a helicopter."

Mulder winced, "Not subtle about what they're after are they? Retarded sons of bitches."

"No sir, this all but confirmed to the PISA that target 3102Bravo is the real deal, or at least interesting, and they have begun to share their information on the target to other agencies within the Japanese government and has begun to trickle this information down to the police."

Edward rubbed his eyes, "Fuck... Where are our guys?"

This time the operations director spoke up from his terminal, "All seven MiB teams have landed and are making their way to Domino High School."

"No go," Ed said, "Send one team back to the airport in case target 3102Bravo shows up there, send one to his residence, and send three teams to secure 3102Alpha"

"And the remaining two sir?"

Edward thought for a moment, "Have them conduct drill Sierra Tango-332."

The operations director looked back in shock, "Yes sir, commencing drill."

* * *

Yugi's legs burned, the hill he was running up seemed to last forever, and the airport was still forever away.

A siren started as a police car pulled up along side him, both driver and passenger were foreigners with glasses, "get in," the driver ordered, the gun pointed at Yugi by the front passenger made escape impossible.

Yugi climbed into the back, the driver pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number on speed dial, "Yes ma'am, collected target_ peter_ _pyramid_."

The passenger still had the gun trained between Yugi's eyes, "So why this kid?"

"Who knows?"

"Excuse me," Yugi spoke up, "but are you with the guys who have taken my classmates hostage and killed grandpa?"

"What the hell are you talking about kid?" the driver asked with wide eyes, he looked to the passenger, "You know what he's talking about?"

"Fuck no, all I know is that the Lady asked us to drive around till we found a kid with crazy hair."

"Who are the guys the kid's talking about then?"

The passenger shrugged, "Who cares? We got lucky, get us out of here."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've moved the rating up to M for reasons you're about to read.

* * *

Japan

* * *

When two foreign men in suits entered the Kame Game Shop, the scent of blood hit them like a ton of bricks.

Warily, they glanced at each other and drew guns from waistbands then closed the door behind them.

* * *

Drill Sierra Tango-332 stood for "Shoot Them", the first 3 stood for sniping, the second 3 for mislead, and the 2 for cause collateral damage.

* * *

An apartment building stood directly across the street from where the held class was. Two foreigners, a Hispanic bodybuilder and a Caucasian wraith, in suits and shades casually strode in, each with a briefcase.

A bellman/rent-a-cop stood up at the front desk, "I'm sorry gentlemen, but the police have closed..."

Two silenced pistol shoots went through his cranium with a _pfft, pift _before the man finished his sentence_._

One of the foreigners handed off his suitcase and dragged the man to a janitorial closet. He came back and they took an elevator to the fifth floor. They came to the apartment overlooking the class. A police sniper and his spotter were already there exchanging target information with each other.

_pfft,pfft_

_pfft,pfft_

The Hispanic looked at the rifle the police had used, a .30-06 Winchester, "Hey Cox, you sure you don't wanna use this?"

Richard Cox pulled out the parts for a Chinese-made SKS with a Dragunov style stock out of the briefcases along with a special scope and second trigger, "Nah, but I sure miss the one back home. I might shoot it when I get back to get the bad taste of this mission out of my mouth."

"I hear ya."

Then they waited for the targets to present themselves.

* * *

Six men got out of their cars at Tokyo Memorial Hospital. The woman at the front desk looked up at them when they entered then back at a note pad, "Oi!" she remarked, in barely passable English, "you must be British Embassy, they send word three minutes ago that you come." She looked at them all, "Not expect this many, or quick."

"Boring day at the office ma'am."

"Ah, Mr. Bakura is in room 332."

"Arygaata."

"No, no. _Arigato."_

"Ma'am, We didn't correct your English."

"Fuck you too."

The men made their way to the elevator.

"British embassy?"

One of the men guffawed, "Yeah, Bakura is a real limey name, didn't you hear?"

"332?"

"Gotta be a coincidence."

There was general agreement at that, though still they had dealt with the paranormal long enough to be wary of something that good.

"We got a time limit now."

"Not really, the embassy is an hour away in the best of conditions, traffic though."

Room 332 held Bakura in hospital gun and three other kids, they left when the men entered, waving goodbye to the boy.

A board game was set up on his lap.

"Good afternoon, Ryo."

Bakura looked up sharply at the accent, "You guys are a bunch of bloody Americans!"

One of the men stepped forward, "Guilty as charged; we represent the President of the United States and the Black Budget House committee, we would like for you to come with us."

Bakura laughed, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you want me to do, while you're at it... you want to play a quick game?" He motioned to the board, "I made it myself, it's sort of like _Final Fantasy."_

"Sure, why not; after all, we're all friends here."

Bakura smiled and his eyes darkened, "Excellent."

* * *

The police car pulled into an the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse, right underneath a large, rusted sign that said_ Future site of a Mari's Steak and Grill, another quality venture from Sombra Enterprises!_

"She should have been here already," the driver said, he looked at his watch and his face grew more annoyed, "We're ten minutes late as it is."

The passenger had never taken the gun off Yugi this entire time, "Not very consistent, is she?"

"You know she would have kneecapped us if she got here before us."

"Of course I know, remember Jake? He was dumped in the Seine when he was only five minutes late."

The driver laughed, "Yeah, but he was a fuck-up before that too."

"Still..."

The Millennium Puzzle glowed, Yugi looked back at them with amused confidence, "You, gunslinger, while we're waiting... let's play a little game."

They laughed, "Who do you think you are? Jigsaw?" The driver said. He laughed again, his friend didn't. The driver noticed that he was the only one laughing, "Come on Mikhail, kneecap _him_." He laughed again.

"The rules are simple," the boy (or was he? he wasn't acting like he had originally at all), "You have one shot to kill me with."

The driver laughed again, "You hear this boy Mikhail? He's insane! Mikhail?" He looked at the passenger who was staring right at him with wide, fearful eyes. The gun was pointed straight at him. "Mikhail! What are you doing?"

"But of course," Yugi continued, Mikhail whipped his arm around quickly, his gun bashed through the passenger window, breaking open his knuckles and gouging his arm... which he did not notice.

"What the hell are you doing!" The driver screamed at Yugi, and pulled out a gun of his own. "Stop, now!"

Yugi ignored him, "you have to figure out which is the real me first."

Mikhail whipped back around and jammed his gun in the driver's mouth, "One shot... PER TARGET!"

The driver's blood and brains splattered against the window.

Mikhail was not done, he turned to the front of the car and pulled the trigger again... twice. Then he turned to face the outside to shoot again.

Yugi smirked, "Penalty Game, you who cheat at the game _and_ the rules he made up, yours is survival."

"Demons," Mikhail choked, "clawing at the car! Surrounded! Where are you?" Then he screamed "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD!" In his mind, the boy had teleported him to a dark, stone room for the game, then had multiplied. Now he was back in the police car with writhing dead things scratch-scratch-scratching at the doors.

The boy's voice cut through his dementia, "This time, you really have only one shot, because its your last bullet."

Mikhail glanced at the gun then back at the dead things, his choice made. He shoved the gun's still hot barrel into his mouth and squeezed the trigger.

The pharaoh laughed through Yugi's mouth.

* * *

Virginia

* * *

"Team 3 reported that target 3102Bravo's grandfather has been killed," the operations director said

Ed raised an eyebrow, "killed?"

"And ritually dismembered sir. They're sending photographs now."

"Put it on one of the flat-screens"

"Yes sir."

The pictures showed a gruesome tale, the old man's head had been impaled on a stake and was standing in the middle of a large heptagram painted with blood. His torso was on the south end of the mark, with the arms and legs to the northeast and northwest. On the wall past this was a large eye, again in blood, with the epitaph: _All hail the Lord in Red!_

"Jesus," Eddie gasped, "have them call the cops, then get them to the airport."

* * *

Japan

* * *

Cox grabbed the rifle, movement in the school, near the front door. He aimed briefly, ready to fire.

A flood of students came running out of the door, and towards the police blockade.

The negotiator, who the two of them hadn't really paid much attention to, started screaming, pleading about something.

"Why aren't the police moving in?" he asked of his partner.

"Shit, it's about to get worse."

It did.

The rooftop door opened, and two students with arms raised and guns pointed at the back of their heads stepped out, blinking in the setting sun. One was a blond male the other a brown-haired female. Then the hostage takers followed. They shoved the kids to the chain-link fence on the edge of the roof.

Cox's finger reached for the first trigger and pulled.

Cha-ching!

The digital camera in the scope took a picture of the four people and sent the photo to Triforce _Courage_ via encrypted e-mail for analysis.

His finger went to the second trigger, and waited.

The group reached the fence, the white guy with an eye patch gestured for the girl to climb up and over.

Cox waited for the second team to fire, their shot would time his.

There was a sound that was like a popcorn kernel popping from the building next door.

A round sliced through the air and entered the girl's stomach, continued through her back and took out eyepatch's good eye.

The back of his head exploded.

The boy screamed something, the girl's name maybe, if her name was... Anzu? Whatever. Then the boy turned and a punched the big guy straight in the jaw.

Pop.

Cox didn't want to shoot a guy that had fought back against his captor, but duty was duty.

The blond kid's fist split down the middle, half the target's head turned to red vapor.

The police and SWAT started to scurry and shout at each other through radios. Several ran to the school to see the damage for themselves.

They left the rifle and briefcases for the police to find. Then they calmly made their way to the train.

"Hostiles neutralized, collateral damage done."

Back at the Shop, the operations director looked at what the SIGINT analyst was feeding him through _Wisdom_, "you didn't kill your hostage."

"They were unarmed. Besides, we already left bodies."

The operations director sighed, "Very well, but you ain't exactly making my job easy."

Cox smiled, even though Jason Baily, the operations director, couldn't see him from thousands of miles away unless it were a dot on a map, "I'll buy you a case of beer when I get back."

"Two cases, and a few rounds on that .50 cal you have."

"It's a date."

* * *

Bakura looked around, all the Americans were slumped over in the room, their souls gone. He climbed out of the hospital bed, pulling out the IV line connected to him. He sucked at the blood that trickled out of his arm as he fished the men's wallets out of their pockets with his free hand.

He froze, his eyes growing wide. He hadn't believed them when they said they were with the US government, how could _they_ have any possible knowledge of or interest in _him_, all the way over here in Japan?

But undeniable proof of what they had said being true was right before him. Their ID's said all.

FBI.

CIA.

NSA.

Army.

Marines.

Navy.

How had he gotten the eye of the US to look at him? No one should have suspected a thing!

Yet, someone knew... an entire agency that recruited from throughout the entire US government knew.

If what they said was true, their president knew too, the leader of one of the strongest militaries in the world.

Could that military be after him now?

Shit...

The elevator rang, and a loud, British voice came through the opening doors.

"You mean the front desk doesn't check ID's anymore?"

Shit! The embassy!

"Eric-san," the receptionist said, "they were foreigners, and we expected foreigners to come for him."

"Have they left yet?"

"No, they were playing a game with him last time I checked."

"Wait here then. I'm going in."

Shit!

Eric walked in the room, "Bloody..."

His gun came up scanning the room, all six men had fallen around the room around a board game.

Bakura was nowhere in sight. And there was nowhere to go except the open window.

"Fuck."

Eric poked his head out and looked around.

He brought his head back in and stepped on something.

Under his foot was the row of ID's.

"Bloody hell!"

He ran out the room, slamming the door behind him. "Call the embassy, tell them to get over here!" he yelled to the receptionist still standing in the hallway, "and call..." he pulled out a business card, "this number as well."

"Who is this?"

"It's the PSIA main office! Now hurry dammit!"

He went back into the room.

The board game and clothes of the NSA guy had vanished, as well as all the ID's.

"Ohhhh... Fuck!"

He ran to the window, Bakura was at the end of the parking lot, fully clothed, board game under arm, ring bouncing on his chest, and running.

"RYO GET BACK HERE!"

Bakura chuckled as the embassy man yelled, it was good to know that even in this modern age, the old tricks could still work. He had been, after all, the thief king. He did not like the tie's color though. Purple? Please... He threw that to the winds, though he kept the aviator sunglasses. Everyone looked better in aviators.

* * *

Virginia

* * *

"Mr. Mulder."

"What is it?"

"The President is on the holo-line."

"Well, put him on!"

The holo-projector flickered as the Presidential Seal spun lazily in the center of the Hub; then with a flash, the image changed to the desk inside the Oval Office. The man himself was dressed in White House bathrobes, looking very tired.

"Good Morning, Mr. President."

The President snorted with derision, "It's still dark out and I don't have a cup of coffee to keep me going for much longer... That and I'm going to bed, again, after this... or I might accidentally hit the red button with my face when I fall asleep in this chair. No, it is **not** morning."

Ed laughed, earning a death glare from the President and everyone in the Hub.

"Why are you calling us now then sir?"

The President said laying on the sarcasm thickly "Something came up in Afghanistan, and while I was up I decided to check up on old friends... Does the damn President need a damn reason?"

"No sir, just curious."

"Did we get those two boys?"

"Sir, our MiB teams have made contact with 3102Alpha, and..."

"Who?"

"...3102Alpha, and..."

"I need to know their names Edward, I could be speaking to them within the week."

"Yes sir, ...Bakura, and we should hear back from them in..." he looked at his watch, "excuse me, we should have _heard_ from them three minutes ago. However, we've hit a _bit_ of a snag with 3102Bra... Yugi."

"What's a _bit_?" the President asked.

"His class was taken hostage by two goons and his grandfather was killed; as for Yugi himself, he's missing. We've already killed the goons sir, and we're analyzing their photos now for identification."

The President put his face in his palms, "Shit, that is a _bit_, well... the one that your guys were sure of has been contacted, so that's good news at least. Now, to bed, keep me posted, but handle it anyway you see fit as long as we get them alive."

"Yes sir, what if someone else gets them?"

"Kill the kids then, we can't have that sort of power running around in someone else's hands."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Japan

* * *

The duo that discovered the grandfather's body had nothing else to do, their part of the mission was over. The next obvious place for the boy to head to was the airport as Japan was fast becoming an increasingly hostile country for him to remain in.

There was a team there already there, of course, but it was a better idea to back them up than to sit around twiddling their thumbs.

Along the way, they past by a abandoned warehouse. A police car with blown out windows sat in the parking lot.

Their was blood on the remaining windows.

"Pull in."

The stench of death again hit them like a ton of bricks for the second time that fading day. Two police men sat slumped in their seats, but they were familiar, "That's Mikhail Rostov! I had a file on him when I worked in the DIA. Since when do known members of the Russian mafia serve in the Japanese police force?"

"Since never. Trunk probably has the real cops."

One of them opened up the back doors and looked around, "3102Bravo was here."

"How do you know?"

The first MiB stood up with a hair in his hand, "Who else do you know that has purple hair in his 'do?"

"If the Russian mob knows about him, does that mean that we have a leak?"

"Most likely, but everyone gets security checks monthly."

"Could be a leak there too."

"Yeah, but the more people you have in a conspiracy, the harder it is to keep it a secret."

"Hm," he froze listening a moment, there was a high pitched wine nearby, "Hey, you don't happen to have your ringtone set as the Mosquito, do you?"

"No, why?"

The second MiB looked around, zeroing in on a rusted sign that said, _Future site of a Mari's Steak and Grill, another quality venture from Sombra Enterprises!_

Something was off here.

He walked up to the sign and studied it, there was a small hole in the center of the O of _Sombra_.

"Mother fucker."

Behind the hole was a camera lens.

The MiB was about to fish it out when a hail of sub-machine gun fire slammed into the police car.

* * *

Virginia

* * *

"What's taking the teams on 3102Alpha so damn long? They should have brought him in by now!" Ed yelled.

"Calling them now sir."

"Put em on speaker!"  


* * *

Japan

* * *

"Now you're sure they were American, Eric?"

"I'm one hundred percent certain that those men lying in the room are American!"

Tokyo Memorial Hospital was abuzz with the whispering of Japanese and British spooks, each had taken their turn questioning Eric about what had happened. By unspoken agreement, they had stayed in the third floor hallway as a quasi-neutral ground.

The hasty security surrounding the room had been so tight that only now were the nurses allowed to take the unconscious men out and that was only after the contents of their pockets were emptied and divided between the agencies.

One of the men's cell phones began to ring, silencing everything. One of the Japanese spooks picked it up and handed it to Eric, "I think you've earned this."

Eric accepted the phone, and answered, "Hello?"

The answer was so loud that everyone was able to listen in and that Eric yanked the phone away from his ear, "YOU GUYS SHOULD HAVE PICKED UP 3102Alpha A FRICKEN HOUR AGO! WHY AREN'T YOUR REARS IN GEAR YET?"

Eric put the phone back to his ear, "Who is this?"

There was a long, pregnant pause from the other end...

"A ghost."

Click.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Japan

* * *

**TATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTAT!**

Sub-machine gun rounds slammed into the police cruiser, perforating it with metallic, staccato _chanks_.

The MiB still standing by the car fell to the ground, screaming in agony as rounds blew through his shins.

The second one, the one who had found the camera, ducked instinctively and pointed his handgun in the general direction of the shots. Most likely a useless gesture, but still, better than nothing.

Two black sedans were at the other end of the parking lot. Four bulky men in suits and frighteningly large handguns stepped out of the cars, with a fifth man covering them with an MP5 from a gunner's position through a sunroof.

The four started running down the parking lot, not trying to take cover or minimize their profile by crouching. The second MiB saw this amazingly retarded move and started firing. One went down when he caught a bullet in the nose; the rest _were_ hit with body shots, but kept coming as if they had been hit only with pellet guns. The goon with the MP5 started firing at him when his buddy went down, but the aim was bad.

The MiB pressed up against the wall and ducked, making himself as small as possible. _Vests, they're wearing Kevlar vests with trauma plates._ So? They were stupid still, did the vests make them feel invincible or were they just not trained for combat?

Then he witnessed the stupid act of all stupid acts to make, he knew it saved his life though.

The sub-machine gunner apparently had rocks for brains, or else suffered from testosterone poisoning, or watched too many movies ...or _something_, as he continued to fire on full automatic and wouldn't stop. No one besides movie stars and greenhorns ever fires on full automatic. No matter how strong a person is, the recoil hitting the shooter's shoulder will eventually make the shooter's aim shift up and into the shoulder, in this case the aim drifted right into the backs of his buddies. Two dropped dead and the final one was hit in the shoulder... and ignored it. The MiB emptied the rest of his magazine into the final goon, dropping him.

The shooter quit firing to reload, all the while ignoring a woman screaming Russian insults at him from the other sedan. The gunner reloaded and fired wildly on auto again, not hearing her, or ignoring.

The woman got out and took the gun when the gunner started to reload again. The MiB was startled by her appearance; she was dressed in a blue evening gown, and bald... actually, that wasn't entirely true, their were thin wires poking through her scalp with electric sparks flowing through them like a Jacob's Ladder. But no hair, so, _technically_ she was bald.

You would think that someone from the Shop wouldn't have been so surprised at an appearance like that anymore, being in an agency that dealt with the paranormal on a regular basis.

The woman aimed at him.

Fuck, he didn't have any time to reload. He jumped over to his partner just as the woman pulled the trigger and sent a burst of shots through the area he had just been.

His partner was dead, having been shot in the chest when he hit the ground after his legs had been taken out. The MiB grabbed his partner's sidearm and fired at Ms. Wirehead before she had a chance to get off another burst. He got her in the throat, and her finger spasmed on the trigger as she fell backwards.

The MiB aimed at the gunner, but there was no need. He was dead for no discernible reason.

Hmmm. He would have to check that out after he took care of his late partner. Crossing himself, he dragged his partner's corpse to their car and lit it on fire, thereby destroying as much evidence as possible that the "Department of Scientific Intelligence" had ever been there.

Now to check who or what these guys were.

The goons were a patchwork of multicolored flesh, a Frankenstein's monster maybe, or a golem. That explained why the last one had died when Ms. Wirehead was shot, as for her...

The MiB had seen nothing like her before, there were no clues on her either, just a black stone with a red flaw that hung off of a necklace. He took a picture with a digital camera in his pocket and sent it off to analysis

Now for the camera in the middle of _Sombra_, it was a film using video camera with a post-it note saying **Ha, Ha! Told you! ****Fuckers!**

So a second group was involved. How many groups knew about these kids anyways?

And why today, out of any other day, were they coming out of the woodwork now?

* * *

The airport, a hive of human activity and travel, at all hours of all days. Man's domination of the realm of the avian creatures had to be one of the seven wonders of this modern era, the pharaoh mused. Right next to Nuclear energy and the microwave oven.

And don't forget about the public transport system which brought him here, the bus driver had asked no questions about a boy in an industrial district covered with light speckles of blood. That was indeed customer service.

Now to get a ticket for... anywhere but here, he hadn't really thought that far ahead yet. Egypt probably, it was the only other place that he knew about, even though what little memories he had were thousands of years old. Things had probably changed a bit.

He _turned inwards_, the boy, Yugi, was still asleep in the distended ether of thoughts that dreaming looked like in the mind. Piercing the cocoon of thought, the pharaoh took his place in the eddies and undertows of Yugi's dreams.

They were dark dreams, nightmares, the pharaoh mentally frowned (a hard thing to do considering that he was little more a vapor in a whirlpool), even though it was understandable to have nightmares given the rough day that the boy had. It was not healthy or desirable. Thus, to kill two birds with one stone, the pharaoh would enter the dream and play the role of protector...

* * *

Dreamland

* * *

Cultists in robes, half-human/half... primal _things_ were chasing him down ancient hallways covered in crumbling plaster and concrete. Down hallways where the spiders spun and the great circuits fell silent... one by one. Above him were flickering lightbulbs that turned on as he passed under them and off again as he passed through the other side. To the right and left were many doors, some led to different dream states... different _worlds_, some led to nowhere... the gap between worlds where many a giant slobbering monstrosity flicked their many tongues, hoping to catch the taste of prey; or worse, his immaterial essence would be torn by forces beyond his comprehension and scattered across entire _universes_.

Plop plop plop plop plop, his foot falls

**thudthudthudthudthudthudthudthudthud**, his pursuers.

Yugi looked back, one of them had a beak that snapped at cackled maniacally, sounding like a murderous Tweety Bird on a mixture of crack and steroids.

Eyes and teeth glinted out of the other hoods, knives dully shone out of the sleeves.

Doors shook in their frames as something slammed into them as he passed; occasionally, one with a crack would shutter twice as hard as strange three-lobed eyes spotted him through the breaks. A sort of strange anti-light "shone" through those, piercing the flickering light with darkness.

"Come-come-Comalla! Come hithah' so you won't be late for dinnah'!" psycho Tweety mocked.

Another one, who Yugi was sure was part-boar, part-man, yelled to him, "You must take your spot in the ritual that your grandfather's blood started! The Lord in Red demands it!"

That inspired Yugi's legs to pump a little faster.

The hallway opened up to a Egyptian hallway, relief carvings of Thoth, Ra, Basset, and the rest of the pantheon lined the sandstone walls along with monsters, the judgment of the dead, scenes of many pharaohs receiving tribute from wizards and vizards...

Obelisks with cracked hieroglyphics stood by these scenes bearing silent witness to prey and predators.

His pursuers did not like the abrupt change of scenery and chattered nervously to each other.

"Hurry!" Tweety screamed, "somet'ing deadly dis way comes!"

Yugi flailed as one of the creatures tackled him, smashing him into the stony ground. They were upon him. Claws holding him down.

"**Blood for the Red King!"**

"**Skulls for his throne!"**

"**HAIL DISCORDIA!"**

Super-Tweety flipped him over on his back, stratled him, then raised a meat-cleaver high into the air, "_Sam kra! Ordo bantah Los! Abbalah desecretisa!"_

**swoosh**

An arrow flew into the bird-man's knife arm and into the wall, pining it. A strange black ichor began to flow out of the wound. The bird-man screamed, the voice sharp- splinting into Yugi's skull like a migraine.

Farther down the hall, a horse neighed as it rose up on its hind legs, its rider changing arms from shortbow to a riding spear.

The cabal rose, ready to deal with this intruder. One of them tossed off it cloak revealing a figure that was more feline than man. It hissed, ears flattened against its head.

The intruder hesitated; taking advantage of this, the cat-man leaped at the horse rider, teeth bared, claws outstretched. the rider swung his spear around just in time to catch the cat thing in the chest and heave it to the ground. Leaving it impaled in the cat-man's chest as it gasped for breath around frothy blood foaming out of its mouth.

The boar gave a whooping war-yell and bull rushed the now weaponless horse rider, the rider simply lifted his hand, goosebumps went up everyone's spines as the temperature suddenly dropped.

The boar tumbled to the ground mid-stride, unconscious.

The others started to back away from Yugi and the pinned Tweety, too slowly though. The rider retrieved his spear from the dying cat-thing and threw, piercing the throat of the bird cultist.

They all turned and ran.

Yugi craned hi head to look at his savior.

It was himself...

* * *

Japan

* * *

Japan was famous for having limited space for building, which is one of the reasons capsule hotels took off. And why they built up instead of **out.**

This hotel took one look at those space saving ideas and threw them all out the window laughing maniacally about it all the while. Made it expensive as hell though.

Crawford Pegasus could afford to be claustrophobic.

He had come to Japan before hosting his tournament for one thing and one thing only. To make sure that Yugi Moto would come, his puzzle was an integral part of his grand plan.

He had sent a package to the boy, but it seemed that the little bastard would never get it; his class had been taken hostage, and now the news was reporting that his grandfather was _murdered_ of all things.

The press were having a field day (or would, when morning rolled around), two very violent acts that produced a body count centered around a small boy. Already hypothesis were flying; Yakuza? The Government? A Company? Cultists? Artifact hunters?

Then they got wind of the duel between Kaiba-boy and Yugi-boy, starting with the latter's grandfather's hospitalization and ending with the former's hospitalization and psychiatric treatment.

More media explosion now. Even though there would be barely anyone watching at this hour.

Yugi would be famous in Japan by 9:00 AM tomorrow.

Pegasus's mundane eye twitched in annoyance as he gulped at his wine, this would drive the other Millennium Item holders deeper underground; he had a hard enough time finding the Ishtars, but the others... if there were others, besides him, Yugi, the Ishtars, and that Shadi fellow that gave him the eye in the first place... would take every step to protect themselves from a group or groups unknown that would kill them and anyone around for those Items.

And he couldn't even abandon the tournament this late in the schedule. Oh well, he would hold it anyway and see how things went from there, it wasn't like he had to be there until the finals anyways.

* * *

Dreamland

* * *

The other Yugi offered his hand, "Think of a safe place that is not in Japan."

Yugi took the proffered hand and thought, the Egyptian hallway melded and bulged into a tropic paradise. Palm trees. White sand. Ocean. Dancing girls.

The other Yugi looked around, nodding, "What is this place?"

"Hawaii."

The other Yugi nodded again, "Very well," he put his hand over Yugi's eyes, "Sleep, when you wake, you'll be on the way there."

* * *

Virginia

* * *

The IMINT officer on duty looked at the security camera footage from Japan recently recovered through the Technical Department given to her through _Wisdom_.

3102Bravo was in every single recorded incident. All of the insanity cases connected to him where a security camera happened to be showed him holding up a hand and the subject collapsing.

The Shop had definitive ties between 3102Bravo and psychic phenomena... Maybe not as strong as the Lot Six tests, but definitely better then the CIA's MKULTRA results.

That meant that he could be tracked.

The IMINT officer cracked a smile, she loved this part of her job. "Mr. Mulder."

Ed looked up sharply, she had caught him asleep in the Hub. "Yes?"

"Bay Three can probably track 3102Bravo."

Ed snorted, "That's pretty risky, but we might have to if this thing gets any worse."

* * *

Japan

* * *

The pharaoh sighed, Yugi's nightmare creatures were odd... though that language that the birdman had spoken, that sounded familiar for some reason. And he didn't know why, it had sent chills up his spine though.

How could have Yugi's subconscious created it?

Oh well, problem taken care of, time to go to "Hawaii."

As soon as he stepped through the automatic doors of the airport, the pharaoh knew that he was caught, again, he really didn't know how this kept happening to him. Two foreigners in suits, Men in Black by every meaning of the term, saw him and walked over to him, one standing straight behind him to make sure there wasn't any possibility of escape.

"Yugi Moto."

"Yes?" the pharaoh looked around, too many people for a shadow game or a mind crush. Too many people would see.

Oh please, it's not like someone was stopping right now to see a boy being terrorized by two goons.

But the next words out of the MiB's mouth surprised him.

"We're with the US Government and we have a business proposition for you."

"Really? What?"

"You can either work for us or the police will know exactly who is responsible for the mental cases that surround you, as well as those murders."

The pharaoh shrugged, "So? They were bad people."

"That's not how a judge would see it, all he'll see is two murders and many cases of mental abuse."

The one behind him spoke up, "Vigilantism, use of excessive force, assault, et cetera, et cetera..."

The pharaoh raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, "Is this world_ that _backwards?"

The MiB shrugged, "This isn't the wild west, you are not allowed to take the law in your own hands. As it is, you're looking at life in prison under Japanese law, or..."

The pharaoh nodded, "Or I work for..."

"Hey! Shinji! There you are!" A hand landed on the pharaoh's shoulder, pulling him away from the two agents. An old man with a white beard that hung down to the belt in his jeans held onto him walking him towards the ticket line.

One of the MiBs grabbed the old man, "Sir... What do you think you're doing?"

"Going home to Seattle with my adopted grandson."

The other MiB spoke up, "Oh really, ZZ Top?"

"Yeah really, Agent Kay."

"That isn't my name."

"Well I'm not Dusty, Frank, or Billy either."

The first MiB agent got in between them before anything could start with witnesses around, "Sir, that child is the subject of a government investigation, and you could be arrested for obstruction of justice."

The old man looked back at Yugi, "Shinji, what did you do?"

"Um... Well..."

"See, he's innocent of shoplifting!"

"Sir... It's a bit more complicated than that, plus his name isn't Shinji."

The old man gasped, "Oh _really_ now? How can you say that when..." he rummaged in his coat pocket and brought out a tiny blue book, "...his passport says his name is Shinji!"

The two agents blinked, puzzled, "Sir..."

"Whoa, were you drunk when your photo was taken? Are you drunk now?"

"Hm?" The man looked at the passport, "Oops! That one's mine." He rummaged through his pocket again and produced another one, "Aha!"

The two MiBs looked at each other, there was no denying it 3102Bravo's face was on an American passport under the name of Shinji McCallister. Even though the passport had to be a fake, they couldn't do anything about it since they were in Japan illegally, were carrying loaded weapons, and there were too many people around.

They could only do as much as a mall cop, observe and report.

Unlike the rent-a-cops though, they had a few gadgets they could use and what they reported would actually be listened to.

The old man pulled Yugi to the ticket line, handing him travel papers, the passport, a carry on bag and a Nevada ID, "Two for Paris please."

The pharaoh started to ask the man who he was with after they got the tickets. But he got shushed. Entering the security line the old man took out a blue cylinder on a key chain, "Shinji, look back at where your friends were." the pharaoh did so, they were shoving earpieces into their ears.

"Watch this," the man twisted the bottom of the cylinder.

All of a sudden, the MiBs yelped in pain, pulling out the earpieces.

"Ultrasonic mosquito repellent, worked like a charm didn't it, eh, Yugi?"

"Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet." He stuck out his hand, "Bruce Avery, Tet Corporation."

The pharaoh took it, "And how did you know I would be here?"

Bruce chuckled, "We've got a group of precogs in Taos in a place called The Dogan, I'll be taking you there first, they love it when they see the results of one of their predictions."

"Is Taos near Paris?"

"Hell no."

"Then why are you taking me to Paris?"

"Who said anything about going to France?"

"You did."

Bruce chuckled again, "That was for the benefit of the guys whose ears are bleeding back there now."

"What about Hawaii?"

"Not good enough, security wise, Nassau would be better if your set on the tropics though.

After security Bruce walked across the airport and back out to another ticket line, giving Yugi a different passport, papers, and a California ID, "Two for Phoenix."

Security again, oh boy.

"So what does the Tet Corporation want from me?"

"Just to keep you out of our competitors hands. We might set you a new life in the Bahamas if you want."

"What about my own?"

Bruce didn't have an answer for that.

As the plane taxied off and pulled itself laboriously into the air, the pharaoh realized that the only way for Yugi and him to even have the semblance of their old life ever again was to wipe out every threat against them.

Yugi would have to know, he didn't want to break the boy's innocence but there was no possible way that he could keep it a secret from the boy for long.

* * *

Virginia

* * *

Bay Three, three stories below and west of the Hub, was the one place that psychics did remote viewing for the government. This was due to the strange laws that governed psychic ability.

During the Cold War, the CIA tried for decades to get remote viewing to work for them... with no success whatsoever. The most attempted targets of these sessions were, of 'flippin course, the Soviet Bloc, who knew something the CIA didn't. Remote Viewing works by one psychic knowing what the surroundings were and what was said around another psychic.

The Soviets rounded up all potential psychics and sent them to gulags in Siberia. Just another purge lost when the Soviets started to shred files.

Remote viewing worked for the Shop, however, because, unlike the CIA, they didn't care about a psychic's surroundings... they wanted the psychic him or herself.

When done that way, remote viewing's success rate shot upwards of 82%, the other eighteen percent being psychics that could block it... and seizures... stroke... aneurysms... brain death...

Five people entered rooms with dental chairs and red lights. They each got on the chairs, put on headphones that played white noise, and covered their eyes with Ping-pong ball halves. Each thought of 3102Bravo, and his many distinguishing physical characteristics. Hours passed. They had him, three of them smiled unconsciously. The other two frowned, something was off about this one somehow.

* * *

Somewhere over the Pacific

* * *

The pharaoh and Yugi both awoke with a start. Invisible hands groped over him, slipping into him and caressing his organs, rubbing over... sensitive areas.

Both Yugi and the pharaoh tried to _come forward_, and had the mental equivalent of butting heads, keeping them both away from the controls of Yugi's body, which lay there in the airplane seat with a blank look on its face.

* * *

Virginia

* * *

The buzzers of _Wisdom, Power, _AND _Courage_ started to ring. "Bay Three has located him on American Airlines, Flight 1407. Tokyo to Phoenix. They're punching it through the Triforce now." Sarah Deepneau said, rather unnecessarily, as it was on every monitor. "The flight stopped at Honolulu two hours ago. They'll enter California airspace in approximately four hours."

Ed turned to her, "The only times when you say this many completely obvious things is when you have a suggestion."

Sarah, thought a moment, "True."

"Spill it."

"The Post Commander of Fort Huachucha owes me a few favors," she explained.

Ed whistled, "How the hell did you get a two-star to owe you?"

"Saved his life in Iraq. Raghead didn't expect a woman to be strong enough to shoot back."

Ed laughed, "Nice. What do you want to do?"

"Sir, the President did say to kill the 3102 series if they got in someone else's hands besides ours."

"Yes, he did."

"Sir, I'd like to shoot down Flight 1407."

The room was silent, Ed mulled it over.

…

"Approved."

* * *

Japan

* * *

Bakura stepped up to the ticket agent at Tokyo's airport.

"One ticket to Baltimore please."

If the President of the United States wanted to have him so bad, he was going to have to say it to him face to face.

If he didn't like the answer... Well the powers of the Millennium Ring would come in handy there.


	4. Chapter 4

Arizona, Ft. Huachucha

* * *

The phone was ringing; oh God, how he hated that noise. It was like an icicle driven deep into the pain of his hangover.

Lt. General Williams snorted, at least last night had been interesting; there was a "give us more money and projects!" dinner between the military services and some congressmen. A few Air Force pukes tried to (and he was probably thinking through beer goggles which, face it, he had partaken of too heavily last night) make a case for their branch getting control of some "directed energy weapon" testing for fighter craft. Jesus Fucking H. Christ, couldn't they call it a laser? Like, you know, normal people? It had been hilarious and painful to watch, at the same time... though the beer had probably helped with the hilarity. The Air Force had lost that project to the Navy and their UASs and ship based testing.

He technically hadn't been needed at the "function" if you could call a backyard B-B-Q that, but he had still been required to go since Ft. Huachucha was "spook central" and held the Army's Electronic Equipment Proving Grounds... he preferred the fact that the Cavalry was there however. He still had his Stetson and spurs from his time as a Cav officer. Damn Intel pukes, pussy fairyboys...

The phone still rang, eliciting another cold pain from his hangover.

Dry swallowing a few aspirin, he picked up the receiver, "This is General Williams... Oh! Sergeant Deepneau! Or is it Mrs. now?... Yes _ma'am_... What?... You want what!... A nuke!... How the hell did he get it on the plane?... Who else knows of the situation on Flight 1407?... Did the President _approve _this?... Fuck!... What about the air marshals on board?... That's how the information was recieved?... Where does he plan to blow it?... Shit fire sonova bitch!"

He slammed the phone down in it's cradle, "FUCK!"

* * *

Plane over the California-Arizona border

* * *

The unseen hands continued to crawl over him, tormenting him. The pharaoh shoved Yugi as gently as possible away from the mental controls that commanded their shared body.

"Things may get bad soon," he said.

Bruce snorted awake, making his beard ripple, "wazzit?"

The pharaoh nodded, "Something has grabbed hold of my location through my soul."

"Are you sure?" One eyebrow raised in a quasi-skepticisim.

"Yes, something bad is likely to happen."

Bruce leaned in and lowered his voice, "Is there anything we can do?"

The pharaoh paused, not for lack of an answer, but because Yugi had waken up and was starting to struggle against his control of the body. _Quiet! Something bad is about to happen because of us and I need to find a way to stop it!_

_Us? What do you mean? Who are you! What are you doing!_

_Hush, in time. Needless to say, we are in a bad position right now. It will take all of our guile to worm our way through this mess._

"Yugi? You alright?"

The pharaoh blinked, "Yes. But I fear that there is nothing we can do."

* * *

Ft. Huachucha

* * *

"ROOM! _ATTEN-_**SHUN!**"

There were a few gasps as General Williams walked into the cramped room filled with all the UAS pilots on post. They hadn't been expecting someone this high up the food chain.

"At ease." He looked at them with a pitied look in his eyes, "Men, I feel sorry for you. Because this mission is twisted all to fuck." He paused, unsure of how to word this, "I need volunteers to shoot down a civilian aircraft with 142 innocent souls aboard... 125 of which are American."

More gasps.

"Now I don't expect anybody to volunteer for a mission this bad without knowing why... The State Department has identified a Japanese national connected to Aum Shiryn... Shurin... what-the-fuck-ever, has managed to somehow sneak a black-market nuke aboard a 747 and plans to detonate as its landing in Phoenix. This information came from an Air Marshal on board the flight that says the man has barricaded himself in the cockpit with a RC detonator. I'm asking for volunteers to kill 142 civilians to save some hundreds of thousands more. I hate it, hate it to hell, but it has to be done or else Phoenix and the areas around it become radioactive slag, Tucson will die from fallout... and Bin Laden will look like a small thinking pussy."

The General grimaced, "I hope that there's only one plane."

Every hand rose to volunteer. A Predator was sent to intercept within a half-hour.

* * *

Arizona- 20,000 feet

* * *

Yugi looked at his watch, one more hour on this plane and then he would demand explanations of this Bruce guy and whoever was taking control of his body. But his "other him" was certain that something bad would happen before that hour was up. Because of that feeling that felt like very bold hands exploring him. A small twinge turned his attention to his bladder, he hadn't gone to the restroom since LA. He got up to head to the plane's rest"room", squeezing his way past the flight attendant in the aisle.

He had almost made it to the the door when the plane dropped, throwing him against the ceiling, knocking him out.

* * *

Back in Virginia, the five psychics winced as their viewing target fell unconcious; pinpricks of blood leaked from capillaries on the surface of their brains, they were not used to being suddenly cut off from a remote viewing session. They immediately tried to look for him again.

* * *

The Predator had ascended from the clouds underneath the doomed 747, pulling up from behind. On one wing was a sidewinder missile, on the other an experimental weapon that was called by the eggheads that designed it a "directional EM cannon". The cannon hummed as it fired unseen waves, frying the circuitry aboard the plane, lights, communications, the "detonator" that triggered the "nuke"...

The engines.

The disabled craft started to coast towards the ground in an elegant fall. This would kill the plane, but not the "bomb".

Then the missile fired, streaking towards the dying plane, connecting with the center point on the belly. It exploded upon penetration of the cargo hold, hoping to destroy the "bomb's" components. It also split the plane in half in quick-lived fiery tongues. Immolating around a fifth of the passengers, including the area where Yugi had sat not a moment previously.

Instead he got sucked out of the gutted plane along with rows of burning, screaming passengers. The screams and smoke roused the pharaoh. He opened Yugi's eyes and beheld the ground standing eager to catch his fall.

* * *

The psychics started to grin, Oh! Wasn't this exciting! They were going to witness someone's death firsthand!

* * *

The mental gropings intensified and five phantasms manifested themselves, hanging off of him and fondling him like a harem.

**I didn't know that they were going to do this.**

**Very intriguing that they would go to all this trouble for just one kid.**

"Who are you?"

**He can sense us!**

**Disconnect, quick!**

The phantasms started to fade, the pharaoh's anger burned against them, "NO!" he yelled over the rushing wind. He reached out with his mind and grabbed them, bringing them back to the material plane. "You will answer my questions!"

**Shit! Shitshitshitshit...**

**We're screwed.**

The pharaoh reached out with his hands and brought the manifestations together into one area. "Why are you watching!"

**We were ordered to.**

**Mr. Mulder asked.**

The pharaoh marked this in his mind, hoping that he would get a chance to use it. The ground was looking quite unforgiving. Even the glint of a lake didn't offer any hope here.

"Where is this Mulder!"

**Virginia.**

**Virginia.**

**Virginia.**

**Virginia.**

**Virginia.**

* * *

Virginia

* * *

Wild seizures racked the five inhabitants of Bay Three as medics tried to render aid through the flailing limbs, blood leaked from their eyes, noses, and mouths as capillaries burst under pressure and teeth tore at their own tongues and lips. Inarticulate screams came forth, broke only cries of "Power! Power!"

* * *

Falling in Arizona

* * *

The manifestations screamed at him, the pharaoh ignored them and looked at how close the ground was.

Frighteningly close, he about to hit it in a few seconds.

The pharaoh flinched, instinctively drawing the essences of the manifestations around him like a cocoon.

**WHUMP**

* * *

In Virginia, the psychics crumpled.

* * *

The pharaoh opened his borrowed eyes, feeling the sun's heat on his back, surprising since he shouldn't have been able to do anything at all. He and Yugi should have been nothing more than a bloody jelly pasted onto the desert. A thought of him being spread across a piece a toast shot through his mind, _this jelly is Yugilicious!!!_

Lunacy.

He rose among the sage, dirt, and rocks of the desert. A translucent, light pink syrup coated the immediate area around him, what was left of the specters possibly. Despite being alive and (for the most part) uninjured, his body and mind ached.

A high-pitched, mechanical scream from above.

The pharaoh looked up and started to run, cursing all the while. The front half of the plane crunched down on it's nose not ten feet from where Yugi and the pharaoh had landed. Other debris fell in a lethal hail; laptops, shredded aluminum, seats- some with the passengers still inside, cell phones.

The pharaoh put his arms up to protect his head, bits of foam and cloth and metal rained down upon him, some on fire and singing him.

Another monstrous crunch as the tail section landed.

Then all was still save the _pitter-patter_ of foam and other debris, then that too ended.

The pharaoh looked back at the twisted burning wreckage and shuttered, someone wanted him dead very badly.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings, nothing man-made... that he could see at least. Water then, he would have to find that first. The lake that he saw on the way down would be good.

* * *

Tull, Arizona

* * *

Allie Brown woke up from her nap with the sound of screaming metal from the other side of Yellow Lake. She groggily ran to the living-room window, ignoring the pain that shot up her leg when she barked it on the corner of the coffee table.

A mushroom cloud of smoke and dust was slowly rising in the air. Already the fire department had engines speeding there with sirens blaring, Sheriff Avery and his deputies was likely speeding there as well... he always seemed to be where the action was before anyone picked up there phone to dial 911. (Even though he was what? Pushing eighty? He was freakishly spry for an old fella.)

Allie thought for a moment, Avery and his boys (and one girl counting Susan Delgado) would probably buy the fire department a few rounds at the bar tonight depending on the difficulty of sorting out whatever just happened, she had to be ready to keep Sheb's, the bar she owned, open past closing time.

When she got to her bar, she noticed that some vandal had spray-painted **Hail Discordia!** along with a red eye on the side of the brick building.

A few hours later, the first Army convoy rumbled past her bar with Humvees and Strykers, heading in the same direction as the explosion had occurred. That unnerved her, why was the Army coming in combat vehicles. She got a look at some of the soldiers inside the Humvees, they were wearing body armor and held assault weapons.

Why?

The FBI and the general public would also ask that same question a week later when the town of Tull, population 413, had become Tull, population 0, in the space of a single night...

* * *

Crashsite

* * *

Deputy Delgado stopped the convoy at the junction between the Interstate and two ruts that formed a rough road that led near the crash site. Surprise and puzzlement obvious on her face, she walked up to the lead Humvee as a man with Captain's bars stepped out the passenger side. "I'm Susan Delgado. How can I help you boys?"

"Captain Avery ma'am and we're..."

"Avery, really? Are you related to our Sheriff Avery?" Susan interrupted

"No. Anyways, we've been ordered to secure the crash site and to help the local authorities."

"Why is the military interested in this?"

"That's classified ma'am. But we brought medical aid as well."

Deputy Delgado harrumphed, "Thank you, but... if you told me you'd have to kill me? Please..."

The captain laughed, "We're not the CIA ma'am, we'd just make you sign so many pieces of paperwork that your arms fall off."

"Hrm..." she, got her radio, "Sheriff, the military's coming."

The radio crackled, "What? What was that Susan?"

"Their's a bunch of Army guys here to help with the plane crash."

"Let 'em in."

* * *

Yugi came to looking at a flat desert plain surrounded by badlands, gray-green sagebrush grew for miles in every direction with scattered cacti and yucca. The sun getting low in the sky.

_What happened? _He asked of the other him, the scary him.

_The plane exploded and we got sucked out into the sky._ Factual and to the point.

_What!? How did we survive something like that?_

_Several spirits came to me while we were falling to torment me and I somehow made them protect us instead._

_How about everybody else, are they alright?_

_Yugi..._

_Come on! Somebody has to be alive! We have to help them!_

The Pharaoh froze; true he was bound to the other passengers of the plane, he was sure that the attack had been directed towards him after all... but if he went back to the site, someone might come by to finish the job. _No, we cannot risk it_.

_But, the people!_

**whopwhopwhopwhopwhopwhop**

The pharaoh dove into the sage as a wave of helicopters passed by overhead, flying towards the crash. Where did they come from? And were they for him, or the other passengers?

_Will be taken care of Yugi; besides_, _if they aren't after us, we would just get in the way._

Yugi sighed_, Alright, but I don't like it._

_Agreed._

The pharaoh did spare a glance back however, he had been walking for hours, only a thin wisp of smoke marked the plane crash from this distance. He could hear the reeds of the lake rustling in the wind, hear tongues of water lapping up on a stony shore. He knelt down by the lake, cupped his hands and drank greedily.

_What are you? _Yugi asked, not who, what. The boy did not trust him entirely and the pharaoh didn't know whether to be hurt or to be pleased that Yugi was not as naive as he appeared.

_I am the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, other than that I know only two things... That I was once Pharaoh, and thus was a god; and that I'm around 4000 years old... give or take a millennium._

_Anything else? Do you have a name?_

_No, unfortunately I have no memory of anything before you completed the puzzle... however, the first people I encountered through you called me Yami. _He looked around, _Night is coming, we need a place to sleep. We can palaver later._

_Why do you think people are after us? _The question was sudden.

_I do not know, _Yami said, _but if I were to guess, someone either noticed the Millennium Puzzle or my actions through you._

_What do they want?_

_I imagine that only they can answer that.._

_

* * *

_

Virginia

* * *

"Ed!" George bust in his office like he was a convenience store robber.

_Really, _Edward thought, _we have got to make him less exuberant._ He lifted his head off his desk, "What is it? And why is it important enough to wake me up after a 48 hour day?"

George spoke with the same gusto, the same _chutzpa_, that he showed when case 3102 first came to them, he always was like this though, "One of the squints recognized one of the Domino school's hostage takers!"

"Oh really?" Ed raised an eyebrow in suspicion, "Who?"

"Robert recognized the guy from a recent trip he took to New York. The perp was a homeless guy that lived around 61st Street and Lexington Avenue."

Ed could barely hold the intrigue on his face, "Homeless? He's wearing some fancy duds for a hobo ain't he?"

"Yessir Mr. Mulder."

"Find out why."

"Yes sir, and uh... Ed?"

"What?"

"Go home," George said, "You're doing no one any good by being tired. And at least you can get a nice bed there."

Ed nodded, it was true, "Good idea, I'll be back around tomorrow night. Hold the fort till then."

"Yessir."

The sun felt odd on his skin, the kind of feeling you get when you've been indoors for a long stretch and you're cold and warm at the same time. His car, an old Crown Victoria, waited for him on a gravel lot.

He climbed in and turned the key.

The bomb that had been hidden in his car detonated, the explosion could be heard for several miles.

* * *

Baltimore

* * *

Bakura stepped off the plane and stretched, flying was not good for him, rather tiring. Now he was on to a hotel, it was close to midnight and he still had to gather information about DC and this President and House committee that wanted him. He took out the IDs again, and marked whatever information he could off of them, again... He had almost memorized them.

He placed them back in his pocket and walked on, scouting out info about train schedules, and grabbing maps. Above him CNN played the same three video clips about a plane crash in Arizona while the Anchor and an "expert" talked about it using mostly fluff to fill in time until they got more information about it. Thankfully the TVs were muted though.

Then a new picture came on, Bakura nearly ignored it, then froze when he realized what the picture was of.

The Millennium Puzzle hung around a boy's neck.

He started to read the closed captioning: Yugi Moto, a Japanese national that was involved in a hostage situation at his school and the murder of his grandfather was confirmed to have a seat on Flight 1407. At this time it is unknown whether he is the perpetrator or victim of this bizarre series of events.

Bakura kept watching as the boy's, Yugi's, photo was replaced with a CGI clip of the plane breaking in two over Arizona.

"Yugi Moto," Bakura whispered to himself, "Hello pharaoh."

* * *

And now a session of:

Electriceel speaks!

Sorry that this chapter is a week late (as Electriceel has been trying to update every weekend with around six pages), but Electriceel was at a class being held at Ford Island, something about Counter-terrorism, kinda boring. But, Electriceel recently got a Kindle, which is how Electriceel is writing this now. In a UH-60. Surrounded by a bunch of crazy mofo's that _like_ to jump out of perfectly good helicopters connected to nothing but a rope. No Electriceel is not air assault, one of them just invited Electriceel to view one of their training exercises. Electriceel likes to keep his feet on the ground and is thus in the Cavalry down here at Schofield. Long story short, Electriceel leads a very... _spontaneous _life that he can barely plan for, its planned for him by people much higher up. So Electriceel will try to update as often as possible. (Also Electriceel doesn't know whether he is advertising for the Kindle or the Army, so you can take it however you like. That the Kindle is badass enough for a soldier, or that the Army doesn't suck out your soul and replace it with a serial killer's.)

And, this is directed to Hikari Kame, Unfortunately Electriceel only has time to just present the story and nothing else (the Kindle should help somewhat with that though) however, the next chapter is reports of the Shop's MiBs following what happened over the past "two days". Along with a few clarifications to what happened and lots of things to muddy up the waters even more.

Until then, Fare thee well!


End file.
